


Good In This Verse

by zeldadestry



Category: Firefly
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-09
Updated: 2007-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-27 07:48:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeldadestry/pseuds/zeldadestry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew their arms were around each other not only out of necessity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good In This Verse

**Author's Note:**

> From Firefly-Serenity Chinese Pinyinary:  
> kuang ren- lunatic/Gou shi- shit/Piao liang de xiao jie - pretty lady/Hun dan - bastard/Kao- fuck, god damn/Tuo da bien - lump of shit/Ai ya tian - a merciless hell/Zao, gao- damn/Shen me - excuse me, what/Ning jing - tranquil, peaceful/Lao tian ye - jesus/Ma shang - now/Jing cai - brilliant/Gou huang tang - enough of this nonsense

What was it carried a body through? They all looked for something, fought for it. Had to be something strongly wanted, or they’d all be surrendering at the very first sign of danger. He wanted to be free, Inara secure. Simon wanted safety for his sister.

His sister…what did they want, River and Jayne? They just wanted the fight, to be a part of every struggle, bare their teeth and sink their canines in.

They was fightin again. Training, Simon called it, but it was just fightin. River moved slow, slow for her, which still meant lightning quick for anybody else in the verse, and she and Jayne circled each other. No rules, but all in fun, no intent to hurt. Both of em just tryin to take the other one down to the ground. First one to pin the other was winner, and winner fought Zoe.

Mal watched em for a while, wearier than he oughta been. Seemed like there was always somethin these days. His neck stiff when he turned his head left, his lower back complainin when he picked up heavy cargo, his knees whinin when he ran.

River threw Jayne down, had her foot at his throat before he could holler. Jayne’s hands wrapped around her calf, trying to get her off balance and push her away. “That’s enough,” Simon said, and River stepped back with a small smile.

“Kill or be killed,” she said to Jayne, and when he gave her the finger she giggled and stuck out her tongue. “Your turn,” she said, bowing to Zoe.

“Be careful,” Jayne warned Zoe, rubbing at the back of his neck, “she’s mean today.”

“I would never hurt my autumn flower,” River replied, reaching out a hand to stroke Zoe’s cheek.

When Jayne had finished stretching the kinks out he stood beside Mal, dropped his arm round Mal’s shoulders, and Mal let it stay there. Jayne’s body so big and warm and solid beside him, and it was a comfortable feeling, if he let himself look at it straight on. No different than Zoe. Someone strong stood with him, had his back. Truth was, life with Jayne had been different since their quarrel before landing on Miranda. It was like confessin he wanted to run things, and then stickin with them even though he couldn’t, had made Jayne certain he belonged. He was there with em because he wanted to be. Didn’t have to do with the money. Was like Mal wasn’t his boss anymore. Was almost like Jayne was his soldier, truth was. If Mal thought about it, some part of him had always felt that way. Jayne was his friend, true, but Jayne was also a soldier, like Zoe, tough and powerful and refusing to quit, all three of them for each other.

 

It was another night in a gou shi bar on the gou shi side of a gou shi town on a gou shi planet, and all Mal wanted was drink. Inara was leaving again, had finished all her packing that morning. Soon as they hit a core planet, she’d be gone. At least Kaylee couldn’t blame him this time. He’d been more than civil over the past few months, tried to treat her like a gorram lady, but nothin’ he did ever made a difference. He couldn’t make himself right for her. Hell, she got off on him being so wrong. Yeah, she got off on the idea of him, but she never let him be an actual part of the gettin, and that had to be what they meant when they said life was a big mean bitch. The verse got off on offerin things you couldn’t have, dangling them so shiny right in front of your face, but just out of reach. You leaned over the edge of a canyon without realizing it, trying to get closer, and the verse kicked you in the ass and sent you plummeting down.

Jayne was sitting close to Zoe, their heads leaning towards each other, laughing together. They was both in high spirits, trying to lift Mal up, but it wann’t working.

“Hell, I’ll give you a baby, Zoe. Any time, any place, I’m your man.”

“Jayne, please…”

“Oh, my sweet piao liang de xiao jie,” he slid his hand up her arm, rubbed his thumb against her collarbone. “You ain’t got to say please.”

“Let me finish,” Zoe said, slapping his hand away. “Please stop…if you want to keep your balls.” She gave him a broad smile, mimed punching him in the face, left, right, left again, with a little ‘pow’ each time.

“Not even if I was the last man in the verse? Come on, Zoe. What if the verse was ending, and we was the only two people left? You’d be beggin me for it, tell the truth.”

Zoe rested her chin on her fist in fake contemplation. “Hmmmmm,” she said. “Nope. Sorry, Jayne. Not even then. Resign yourself to a Zoe-less existence.”

“Life without Zoe,” Mal spoke up for the first time that hour. “Ai ya tian.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Well, kao. Can’t blame me for trying, darlin.” Jayne’s eyes were scanning the bustling bar and soon locked on a scowling tart cussing out the barkeep. She looked like trouble. Jayne’s women always looked like trouble. She stood tall, boots covered in mud and a tiger-skin top hat on her head. “Will you look at that?” Jayne said, with a demented grin. “What you think Cap’n? She look like fun?”

“She ain’t my type.”

“You hun dan. She’s mine. Just thought I’d show her of to ya. You can have a real good time you keep your eyes open.” He turned back to Zoe. “Think I got a chance?”

“Won’t know until you try.”

“Hell. I just found me my wife for the night, and ain’t she a fine one.” He got up from the table. The girl was watching him now, with a leer as dirty as his own. “Oh, y’all see that? Looks like she’s taken a liking to me. Shiny. If I ain’t back by mornin, don’t fret. You’ll know I had me a real good time.” He slid his unfinished drink across the table to Mal. “You best keep drinking, Cap’n. You won’t take it so hard.” He delivered the words with a sloppy pat of his hand against Mal’s back, like he was tellin an old horse it’d done good.

As Jayne stalked towards his kitty, Zoe mused, “He’s worried about you.”

“Shen me? I ain’t got no reason to fret.”

There was no way she was buying it. “Would it kill you to admit you have feelings?”

“I don’t recall you ever braggin about yours.”

She smiled. “Point taken, sir. Consider the matter closed.”

He tipped his glass to her. “Shiny.”

Simon and Kaylee came by shortly, ready to return to the boat. Mal sent Zoe with em. The hell of it was that Jayne was right. There was nothing to do but keep his glass full.

When he was ready to leave he regretted having sent everyone away. It was gonna be a lonely walk back to the boat, a lonely night in his bunk, wishin like he was a boy for Inara to come to his bed. Maybe Jayne was right about women. He needed a wife for tonight, just a friendly face, someone to touch. No, it’d be worse. He’d be thinkin about Inara the whole time. Wouldn’t be fair to the hypothetical her, and sure as hell would make him feel worse once it was done. No one but his hand for tonight. Humpin his hand, hell. Maybe he’d sneak into Inara’s shuttle and do it on her red silk sheets, while she was off sayin her good-byes to Kaylee or somethin.

When he stepped out on the front porch, Jayne was right there, sitting very straight so as to show off his new top hat as he played Mah Jhong. “Cap’n,” he shouted, “come over here.”

Mal stayed where he was. After his turn, Jayne got up and came to his side. “Where’s your girl?”

“One and done. She didn’t take me home, so I reckon she’s already got somebody waiting.”

“Or once was enough.”

Jayne’s eyes widened. “Didja see my hat?” he said, pointing to it with an index finger on each side. “I earned it. It’s a mighty satisfied woman, gonna give away a hat this fine.”

“You look like a damn fool.”

“You know it’s shiny. You wish you had a hat like this.”

“Right, Jayne. I stay up nights cryin cause I ain’t never had a hat like that.”

“Cryin?” Jayne looked momentarily stupefied.

Did that idjit think he was serious? “Buckets and buckets of tears.”

“Hell, Cap’n. Had no idea you was so miserable. You let me know you ever get suicidal.”

“Cause you’ll get me some rope?”

“No, cause I’ll loan ya my hat.”

“And I call shenanigans. Since when do you share anything?”

Jayne winked. “Ya caught me. You ain’t got enough jay nay say kwa for a hat like this, anyway, and ya know it.”

“What the hell don’t I got?”

“I don’t know what. That’s how they used to say it on earth-that-was.”

“I don’t know what what?”

“No, that’s what jay nay say kwa means. It means I don’t know what.”

“What?” Sober, the conversation would have merely been annoying. Drunk, it made his head ache. Definitely time to call it a night. “We’re going,” Mal said. “Ma shang.”

“But I ain’t done playin,” Jayne whined. “I gotta win me my coin back.”

“We’re leaving.” He clutched Jayne’s upper arm and started steering him towards the dirt path that led out of town.

Jayne strained lamely against Mal’s grip, like he didn’t really wanna break free. “We ain’t on a job and we ain’t on your boat, so I ain’t your lil whippin boy.”

“You’re my whippin boy, but you ain’t lil. It’s a long walk back to the ship.”

“And you’d appreciate an escort, that it?” Jayne tipped his hat. “Lookin for protection, sweetheart?

It tickled him, sometimes, Jayne always willing to act the fool. “Yeah,” he said, “that must be it.”

“I can kill a man with one hand bare and the other tied behind my back,” Jayne bragged, dropping his arm around Mal’s waist. “You’ll be safe with me, darlin.”

They walked until the lights of the town had faded into the distance, until there was naught but moon and stars to show the way. Trail was rough and Mal kept trippin over roots, stubbing his toes against rocks. Every time he fell forward he bumped into Jayne’s broad back. Jayne was mighty quiet, for once, which troubled Mal since it allowed his thoughts to so easily drift back to Inara. He tried to think of a topic Jayne would be sure to go on about. “Why don’t you tell me about your girl?”

“Oh, she was wild, Cap’n. You sure you can handle it?”

“You ain’t gonna tell me nothin’ I ain’t heard before.”

“She fucked me in the alley, Mal, right behind the bar. She couldn’t wait. She threw me down, lickin and clawin at my chest. She was rippin my clothes off. Look, I got a button missing, see? She gets my pants down, mouth so wet all around me, makin these noises, these mmmmms like she ain’t never had somethin so good in her mouth before. Got one of her hands cuppin my balls, the other one clutching my ass. I’m buckin up into her mouth and then she pulls away, tells me to get on my knees, pulls her skirt up, no panties, naked as the day she was born, smooth as the day she was born, you know what I mean? She’s so damn swollen, Mal, so wet, and I start lickin her and she starts moanin like she’s gonna die, standin there in those god damn boots, I got both hands squeezing her ass, my tongue up inside her, next thing I know, she’s got me flat on my back again, she was strong and I let her show me who was boss, she gets one hand on me, Mal, and nice and slow she takes me in, lifts her shirt up over her tits, I start playin with em and she’s moanin again, starts ridin me. She was tight, Mal, real tight, even though you could tell she’s spent a lot of time on her back, cause she’s got all them skills that feel so good, clenching around me, pussy like that, felt like it was her first time. I ain’t had many felt better than hers. She came right quick, I get her on her back, start fuckin her hard, and she keeps screamin, telling me to give her more. I come and it feels like my fuckin balls exploded, I’m shooting so much inside her. I just lie there, catchin my breath, stay in her pussy, cos she’s still so hot and wet, feels so good, suck on her tits like I’m a gorram baby, cos they taste so good.”

It got all turned round in his head. Whole time Jayne was talkin, was like he could see Jayne humpin Inara, Zoe, hell even Kaylee, jus like he was talkin about. “Didja kiss her?”

“Come on, Mal. You know I didn’t.”

Even though they was both fit, they was both out of breath and damn if he wasn’t hard. Zao. He was gonna fuck through Inara’s gorram mattress feelin like this. His foot ran into another root and he stumbled, bumping into Jayne again. “Watch it!” he shouted.

“I didn’t do nothin!”

Couple paces later, he hit a hole in the road and fell. Soon as he got his breath back he let out every curse he knew. He turned over and lay on his back, his breathing still shallow from the shock of the fall, his ankle burning. There were so many stars out, too many stars, he shut his eyes and didn’t move.

He heard Jayne crouch down by him. “You alright, Mal?”

“Go away. Leave me alone.”

“Why you always got to tell me what to do?”

“I don’t want you ever touchin Zoe, you hear? Or Kaylee, or Inara, or River, or anyone on my gorram boat.”

“Inara ain’t gonna be on your boat no more. I reckon Zoe and River can take care of themselves. And if you think I’d ever hurt Kaylee, hell, hurt any of em, then you don’t know a gorram thing about me. I know how to treat women, Mal. I know how to keep em happy. Hell. How about our high and mighty medic, huh, what if I want a piece of him? What about you? I got my hands on you right now and I don’t hear ya complainin.”

“I hate you,” Mal said, thoroughly miserable and not meaning a single word. “This is all your fault.”

“It’s my fault you can’t hold your drink?”

“Yeah. And it’s your fault Inara’s leavin.”

“Hell. Next you’re gonna tell me it’s cos of me the Browncoats lost.”

“We didn’t lose! The Alliance won.”

“Yeah and how’s that any different? You lost, Mal, get over it.”

“Fuck you, you tuo da bien! I didn’t lose. I never gave up.”

“Never said you did. Let’s get you home and you can sleep it off.”

“Maybe I ain’t got a home.”

Jayne’s voice softened, like he meant to soothe. “You ain’t got to worry about me and Zoe. I just play the fool to make her laugh. Don’t you think it’s good to see her laugh?”

“What do you mean, ‘play’ the fool. You’re the damndest kuang ren I ever knew.”

“Show me another man seen all I seen who ain’t kuang ren, one way or another. Hell, how many times I called you crazy?” Mal sputtered, ready to argue more. “Shut up,” Jayne said. “Gou huang tang. What’s the damage?” He ran both hands slowly up and down Mal’s leg, making sure nothing was broken. When he reached the left ankle, Mal hissed. “It hurts, don’t it?”

“Like hell.”

“I don’t think you should walk on it.” Jayne’s other hand was high on his thigh, and Mal tried to push him away, but he didn’t budge. “It ain’t just your ankle looks swollen,” Jayne muttered.

“Thinkin about that girl,” Mal said, but it was a lie, with Jayne’s body so close. His hand that was trying to shove Jayne away suddenly gave up, wrapped around his wrist almost like a gorram caress. It wasn’t a bad thing to be covered by Jayne’s body. Even Simon had said so at the dinner table the day after Jayne had protected him while bullets flew overhead during yet another job gone wrong. It was a safe feeling, mostly. Well, safe and warm, more like. No, not even warm. More like hot. Like Mal was sweating, panting.

“I know what you want, Mal,” Jayne said. “Every time I say your name, you swallow. Your mouth waterin for a taste of me? You want me to touch you?” Mal couldn’t answer, just gave a nod like it was an order. Maybe it was an order. “You want me to show you what I do when I like someone?” Jayne pulled Mal’s shirt out of his pants and pushed it up over his chest, bending down to brush his lips against the ridges of Mal’s ribs, lick his tongue down the center of his belly. “You want me to show you how I touch em, make em feel, make em cry out for more?” Mal wasn’t much interested in the words, but Jayne’s voice was killin him. Jayne’s touch was makin his whole body throb, like the prickly heat of the sprained ankle was infecting him all through.

“You kiss em when you like em?” He swallowed, opened his eyes to see Jayne above him, watching him.

“Hardly ever.” Jayne bent his face down, pressed his lips against the side of Mal’s neck, licked up and down the length of his throat, up and down, up and down, before a sudden sharp scrape of teeth made Mal wince, his body jump. “Want I should do that again?” Mal closed his eyes and gave a slight nod, waited, waited, and just as the tension began to ebb, Jayne bit him, hard, made him yelp. “That hurt?” He nodded. The skin was abraded and his own sweat running down made it sting. Jayne kissed the places he’d bitten, brought the soft tip of his tongue back to trace the marks, soothe them.

Soft, thick tongue, and before Mal could stop himself, he said, “Kiss me. Ma shang.”

Jayne’s mouth was at his own in a flash, pressing down hard against him, mouth open and hot and Mal could barely breathe, could only open wider, grind his mouth against Jayne’s just as he was grinding his prick against Jayne’s thigh. He couldn’t do nothin now but hold on. His body knew what it wanted, and he just let it lead.

“You like me holding you down, don’t you? I knew you would.”

“Lao tian ye, will you shut the hell up?” Jayne had thought about it? He didn’t want to know, which was insane, because he’d thought about it, too. It got complicated, knowing they both wanted it. Just getting off, he reminded himself. This could be anyone, anyone, it don’t matter. But he couldn’t pretend this wasn’t Jayne’s body, Jayne’s voice. He couldn’t pretend that Jayne didn’t get him hard. Jayne’s hips stilled for a moment, and he looked for all the world like he was gonna start yakking again. Mal groaned. “Keep moving, you jackass.” He grabbed for Jayne’s ass with his hands, Jayne started movin again, fiercer than before, like he was going to fuck Mal until he broke him. He tried to think of Inara, of that girl Jayne’d gone off with, but they was just images, phantoms floating through for a moment and then disappearing. It was Jayne’s body had him feelin like this, and he looked up to see that Jayne’s eyes were closed, the veins in his throat pushing up against the skin, blood pouring through. Mal’s hips kept thrusting up and up and up, and the friction was there, just right, just enough, he was getting there, he was almost there, when Jayne unbuttoned his flies and wrapped his hand round Mal’s prick like he’d done it a hundred nights before. A few rough jerks and he was spilling, all over Jayne, all over himself. Jayne pulled his hand away, slick with Mal’s spunk and grabbed his own cock, his lips pursed. He grunted with each stroke, and the only thought in Mal’s mind was if this was how Jayne looked when he was fucking. Jayne came with a howl, collapsed on top of Mal, too heavy, his breath sweet, somehow, even under the liquor. “Get off,” Mal muttered, pushing at him. Jayne reluctantly heaved himself up, stripped off his over shirt to wipe himself off, and then handed it to Mal who turned on his side to tuck himself back into his pants and fasten the buttons. Endorphins were wearing off mighty quick and he didn’t know how he was going to be able to get up off the ground without putting weight on his ankle.

“That was good, right? I told you it’d be good. You ain’t mad?”

“I ain’t mad,” he managed to mutter. “Ain’t mad at you.” He was mad at himself and his temporary fuckin insanity.

“Guess you was my wife for the night, huh?”

He groaned. “Go away, Jayne.”

“But, Cap’n, I can’t leave ya here.”

“Just get the hell out of here. Go back to the boat and tell Kaylee to come and get me on the mule.”

“I could carry you.”

“No! Just go away.”

“I can’t leave ya. You’re too fine a morsel for coyotes.”

“I can fight em off.”

“With what? You ain’t got your gun. They’re fierce when they’re in a pack.”

“Give me yours, then.”

“Sorry, Cap’n.”

“Come on, Jayne. Ain’t like I’m askin for Vera.”

“She ain’t Vera, but I still got a fondness for her. I call her Kate.” Jayne smiled to himself as he patted his holster.

“Please don’t tell me you have a name for all of your guns.”

“No! Course not. Not all of em. Most of em. Only my favorites.” Jayne was scrounging around in the dark and came back holding a log, which he brandished in front of Mal. “Lookie here, Cap’n. I found you a big ole’ stick to scare off them coyotes.” He swung the log in front of him, pretending to slaughter an army of predators. “Kao. No one on the boat’s gonna believe the animals gotcha. They’re all gonna think I killed ya and left ya here, so I could be in charge.”

“Zoe’s next in command, not you.”

“Oh, yeah. Guess I got ahead of myself.” Jayne stifled a yawn. “Last chance, Cap’n, fore you got no friends in hollerin distance. You gonna let me help you or not?”

Mal gave in. It was a stupid night, all around, and he might as well just let it limp to its stupid end. No literal limping, though. “Alright, just help me stand.” Jayne’s arms were around him again, practically carrying him; both his arms served to lift Mal nearly off his feet. It could have been humiliating, but his ankle hurt too much, the night was too hot, the sex was too quick, the moon was too bright and he was still drunk enough to squint and see it all through a haze. It was slow going, but when Serenity was finally in sight, his heart rose to think of seeing Inara, before he remembered and hung his head. “Gorram ship full of fools,” he muttered.

“Reckon there’s nothing wrong with fools,” he heard Jayne say. “My mama’s mama always said, ‘the Lord loves one fool more than a dozen wise men.’”

“Why in the verse?”

“Why?”

“If there was a god, that bastard, why in hell would he love a fool?”

“A fool can’t have but one notion at once. If he’s prayin, that’s all he’s doin. If he’s thinkin on the Lord, there ain’t space in his head for no other.”

“That ain’t half-bad.” Course there had to be something of a pilgrim in Jayne, given his friendship with Book. Had to be somethin of a pilgrim in all of em. A man who thought he had the answers stayed put, a woman. Inara. She might enjoy wandering, but was she driven to it? “You wishin you’d stayed with that girl?” Jayne shrugged. “No?”

“No. The ruttin was good. But when she left, I was alone in the street, everyone else around me rushin to get to their homes, be with their folk. And now we’re here,” he said, tilting his head towards Serenity.

“I hear you,” Mal said, and he knew their arms were around each other not only out of necessity.

 

Another U-Day, another brawl with folk who didn’t take kindly to Browncoats. They’d won, though Mal’s nose had bled onto the front of his shirt and he was going to have a black eye in the morning. “You don’t look none the worse for it,” he complained to Jayne, who was bellying back up to the bar.

Jayne lifted his shirt, pointed out a few gashes and some red raised welts. “Those’ll be purple by the morrow.” He indicated to the bartender that he wanted three shots of whiskey. “One of them fuckers bit me,” he said, showing an additional abrasion on his waist. Mal almost stretched out his fingertips to touch the injuries, but instead he settled for pulling Jayne’s shirt back down. It did wrong things to him, seeing Jayne’s skin like that. Made him feel like he was the only one who had any claim to put marks there. They stood side by side, drinking in silence.

When Mal said, “We could go upstairs,” Jayne didn’t even bother to answer, just turned and strode over to the innkeeper, paid and never asked Mal for half of it back. They went up together, side by side in the staircase, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, and soon as they reached a landing, Jayne pushed Mal up against the wall, started rubbing up against him, kissing him. One of Jayne’s arms was underneath Mal’s ass, lifting him up high enough so that their groins met, and Mal wrapped one of his legs around the back of Jayne’s. Things were just starting to get most interesting, Jayne’s hand slipping down the front of Mal’s pants, when they heard giggling, turned to see a pretty young whore slipping down the stairs, probably just finished her night’s work.

Jayne pulled his hands away, returned Mal’s feet to the floor and turned around to smile at the lady. Mal slipped a hand underneath Jayne’s shirt, pressed it against the muscle of his belly. He wasn’t surprised when Jayne covered the hand with his own. “Hey, girlie,” Jayne growled as she passed by them, her skirts rustling.

“Evenin, boys.” She walked past them with a wink and they both watched her sashay down the steps, her pretty round ass swaying from side to side.

“Mmmm,” Jayne said, as she disappeared outta sight. “Maybe we shoulda asked her to join us.”

“She ain’t my type,” Mal said.

“That’s right, only professional you got time for is Inara.”

“Shut up.”

Jayne bent down to drop a quick kiss on Mal’s lips. “Let’s find the room.” They didn’t even bother to turn on the lights as they unlocked the door and stumbled inside. There were no shades on the windows, and there was streetlight enough to see what they needed. Jayne’s hands went to Mal’s waist as he led them to the bed, shoved Mal down and stood watching him. “Take off your clothes,” Jayne said, already tearing off his own. Mal was slower and he stopped completely when he saw Jayne standing there, buck naked and holding his belt in his hands.

“I don’t know if I like what you’re thinkin.”

“It can’t hurt ya.”

“No, but you might.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“What do you want?”

“I’m askin you what you want. You want me to suck you? Fuck you? You want to fuck me? Tell me.” Some shiver in Jayne’s body or voice when he asked if Mal wanted to fuck him and oh, hell, yeah, did Mal know what he wanted, then. Mal wanted it his own damn self, now that he knew it was something Jayne liked.

“You been fucked before.”

“So?”

“So nothin. Just wouldn’ta suspected.”

“You been fucked?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you know how good it feels.”

“That’s what you want, inn’t? You want me to fuck you.” He stood up, shucked off the rest of his clothes, Jayne just a few feet ahead of him in the dark. Suddenly he heard a whistling through the air and Jayne thwacked him on the outside of his thigh with the leather, sharp stinging slap. “Gorram it, Jayne!” He lunged forward, lowered his shoulder into Jayne’s side and knocked him down, falling on top of him. They wrestled, kissed, limbs and tongues tangling, until Jayne ended up on his hands and knees, with Mal slung over his back. Jayne slipped a small bottle into Mal’s hand, he opened it and oil splashed onto his fingers. He ran his hands together to warm it, slicked his cock, ran his fingers up and down the crack of Jayne’s ass, circled his thumb around the pucker of his hole. Lined himself up and started to press in, Jayne already chanting, saying yeah Mal, come on, give it to me, and one more push and he was there, in deep and it was like amnesia, like not even being a person at all, just a body, just his body thrusting forward and Jayne moving underneath him. His hands clutched at Jayne’s hips, was so good, the smell of musk in the air, dirty and sweet, Jayne’s skin slick with sweat and oil underneath his fingertips, the sounds he made, the sounds Jayne made, the way they sounded together. He thrust harder when Jayne asked for it, kept urging him on, found that rhythm, always that rhythm, one he knew was good for both of em. Knew it was good for himself, hell he could feel how good it was, knew it was good for Jayne, who moaned his name, cursin and sighin like he never had it so good. It was always the contrast that felt so good, shifting from slow to fast, from hard to gentle, pound hard and then just pull back for a moment, keep it shallow, and then give into the urge again, thrusting, building up the tension till it was almost too much then slowing it down reigning himself back, before letting go again, so that intensity kept building, rushing towards release. Shifted their bodies to find the best angle, Jayne was saying yes yes yes, braced himself on one arm so that he could lift up his other hand to jerk himself, bearing all that weight, Mal could feel all his muscles straining, he could take it all and keep going and Mal’s eyes fell shut, he was so so close he knew it was just there, about to overtake him, god it felt so good to be so close. He tried to slow down, tried to prolong the moment just before when everything felt so amazing so amazing and then he was coming, the best pain he ever knew, and when he shot all he had, every last spasm ended and his whole body unclenched, he collapsed forward and Jayne was bearing both their weight until he came and fell flat against the floor and Mal just lay there on top of him, both of their chests heaving for a moment, until they caught their breath, their bodies completely limp, sated and loose. Mal nestled beside Jayne, rested his cheek in the valley between his shoulder blades.

Their fingers brushed together for just a moment until Jayne said, direct hun dan as always, “Alright, enough of this sentimental gou shi,” and rolled over, bucking Mal’s weight off. He lifted him up and carried him the few steps over to the bed, threw him down on it and Mal had to move quickly over to the edge, so he wouldn't be crushed when Jayne just fell forward and lay there beside him. Room was hot enough that they didn’t even need the sheets, could just lie there hearing street noise from outside, hollerin, like maybe a party had spilled out onto the sidewalk. They hadn’t noticed until that moment, too caught up in their own noises, each other’s sounds, their flesh slapping together, their grunts and moans.

“Sounds like a good time,” Mal said, hearing the shouting and laughing.

“I had a good time,” Jayne said, grinning, and Mal grinned back. “A good fight and a good fuck, don’t get better than that.” There was a neon light display across the street, flashing blue and green across their naked bodies.

“How them bruises?” Mal asked, figuring he couldn’t have been too rough, that nothing could be too much for Jayne, but still wanting to be sure.

“Comin along nicely,” Jayne said, tracing his fingers over the marks on his chest, his torso, then, very gently, very carefully, running his thumb over the bruise underneath Mal’s eye. “Our personal tributes to independence.” When their sweat had all dried it felt cooler, a breeze had started comin in the window. They both slid under the covers. Whole city seemed to know it was time for sleep, a hush descended, down on the streets the party crowd was moving further away, their voices were only an echo in the distance. Someone turned off the light across the street, the dance club was closed. They turned away from each other, onto their sides, but not before whispering good night.

In the morning Jayne was still out, snoring. Mal left without waking him.

 

He’d been surprised by the wave from Inara, shocked by her invitation. Everyone had teased him about the upcoming tryst, even Jayne, especially Jayne, until he’d ordered em to stop. Now that it was over, he didn’t know what he could tell them, could only hope no one would have the guts to ask him. When he arrived back at Serenity, Jayne and Zoe were sitting out front, just like Kaylee did when they was planetside. They were both drinking somethin pink with a little paper parasol pokin out and smoking cigars. “Ain’t this a ning jing picture,” Mal said. “What the hell you two doing?”

“Watching the sun set,” Zoe languidly replied, as though she was a kept woman used to spending all her life on vacation.

“And what the hell you drinking?”

“Kaylee fixed it.”

Made sense. Damn thing looked pink and frothy as that dress he’d bought her back on Persephone. Gorram it, but sometimes the whole verse conspired to remind him of Inara. “Will it get me drunk?”

“Sure enough. We used a whole bottle of gin. You want one?” Her pupils were dilated and there was a sheen on her cheekbones, the sweat and oil of the hot day. She was beautiful.

“I’d be forever obliged.” He wanted something strong to wash the taste of tea from his mouth. Gorram Inara, treating him like a client. Why’d she have to do that and make him feel unworthy? Zoe handed him her cigar, and he took several long pulls, watching her as she went into the boat. It wasn’t like her to wait on him. She probably knew about Jayne, probably knew that Mal would be needin to make sure all was square between em. She’d always been smarter than he was. The cigar was just about finished and he dropped it, ground it out with his boot. His gaze shifted to Jayne. “Evenin,” he said, and it never surprised him, not after this long stuck with himself, that he could make his voice so smooth and easy, like there was nothin different, nothin wrong.

Jayne grunted. Mal wished he weren’t wearing his damn cap pulled down so low, wished he could see Jayne’s eyes, know what he was thinking. His voice didn’t give it away. “You look tired, Cap’n. She took you for a good ride, didn’t she? Wore you out.” Mal sat down beside him. He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing, as was his right. He wasn’t guilty, wasn’t sad, wasn’t happy. He wasn’t nothin. “Was it good?” Jayne asked, and now his voice became a traitor. There was a barb in it that caught on Mal’s chest.

“Yeah, it was.”

“Best you ever had?”

It was getting darker, the sunset fading. Mal hoped they’d sit on till the stars came out, see them spread across the sky. From the ground the stars were a far piece, like they must have seemed thousands of years ago, before people knew how to fly to em, past em. “No,” he answered, “wasn’t the best.”

“You’re a gorram liar,” Jayne said. “Name one you’ve had better.”

No one knew about him and Zoe. No one ever had, no one ever would. After the war, she looked to take a different man with a simpler past and she’d found him, a man named Wash to make her clean. She was then, was still, the only person he really needed. “Don’t you trust me? I swear to you I’ve had better.” Jayne didn’t need to speak, his smirk made plain that he thought Mal was full of gou shi. Mal’d expected something different from Jayne, maybe even somethin’ like a rage, a tantrum. Maybe he’d thought Jayne was going to be waiting with Vera, ready with a right pretty speech about how Mal didn’t respect him, because sometimes Jayne knew how to talk. Sometimes Jayne knew how to say things so that Mal could understand, could see it for what it was. The verse wasn’t simple, Jayne wasn’t simple, but he could cut to the root of things. _You got handed the shortest stick ever seen in this gorram ‘verse, but you took it. You took it!_ “You ain’t mad?”

“Aw, hell no, Mal. I’m jealous.”

The slick soft sheets that slid over his skin, her beautiful face rising and falling above him, twisting as her mouth fell open and she moaned. He was not the kind of man who believed. Wrong. He was the kind of man who believed and had the kao luck to live long enough to see his beliefs ground into the dirt. But he had never been able to believe Inara. What had she said once? _You can‘t play a player._ He cared for her, he always would. But she wouldn’t let him know her. Maybe she couldn’t let anyone know her. Maybe that was what they learned in all their training to please the client, how to hide so good, so complete, that no one could ever see the real girl, made it possible to imagine that their fantasy was the truth of her. She went out of her way to let him know she was a stranger, would always be so. And Jayne was jealous of that? Of course, Jayne didn’t love her, so it wouldn’t pain him the same way it did Mal. It would be simple for Jayne, a beautiful woman beneath him, her sweet smell as she curled up beside him after. If only Mal could have sent his body to her bed, kept his heart and head away, cause what did those evil twins ever do but fuck it all up? “It’s not somethin to be jealous about. She lets you have her, but she ain’t havin you.”

Jayne leaned down over Mal, cast a shadow over his body. His chest was against Mal’s back, his forearm pressing into Mal’s throat. “She ain’t gonna play rough,” he murmured soft, but with his bulk so close beside, the heat of his body, Mal’s skin prickled like he’d heard a growl. Jayne had killed men with nothing but his hands, he didn’t need a weapon to end you. Mal never forgot that. Didn’t mean he was scared of Jayne. Meant he understood the weight of it. For all Jayne’s curled fists and scowling and threatening, his hands weren’t rough when they touched Mal, his hands were only rough when Mal asked for it, when Mal wanted it. He couldn’t imagine anyone being with Jayne who didn’t want, one night or another, to feel that power directed at them, to fear, just for a moment, that those hands might wrap around their throat, their skull, move their head just right to snap their neck, or squeeze strong enough to end all breath forever. He liked the fear, because over it, under it, there was the trust, and it was good, sometimes, to feel that trust win out, to know, be sure, it was the stronger. It always seemed like Jayne knew his mind, and that in the very moment Mal’s fear left and all that remained was the trust, Jayne would let go, arms and hands going slack, everything, every muscle relaxed, except for his lips, pressing kisses like thank you all over Mal’s throat, where even yet the bruises might be starting. Mal reached his own hand up, hugged Jayne’s massive arm. He could feel the rough hairs, the taut muscle of the bicep. Jayne let out his breath, a silent sigh, and the heat of the exhale rolled over Mal’s flesh. Mal’s lips parted, his teeth latched on to Jayne’s flesh. It wasn’t a bite, not exactly, it was holding on, like the way a bitch carried her pup round in her mouth.

“That don’t hurt,” Jayne said.

Mal loosed his jaws. “It wann’t supposed to.” He leaned his head back, and Jayne’s fingers tangled in his hair. “You want it to hurt?”

“I don’t mind it,” Jayne said, turning his arm so that the tender inside faced Mal’s mouth, his hand soft and open. Mal drew the arm back towards him, traced the blue vein with his tongue all the way up to the crease of the arm, bit there hard as he could, and Jayne’s groan urged him on, bite after bite, mark after mark, a trail of spit all the way down to the wrist. He paused for a moment, shushed Jayne, who was moaning, wanted to feel the pulse with his tongue. He couldn’t, though, had to content himself with his fingers. Racing.

When they heard the echo of Zoe’s boots in the distance he pulled his mouth away and Jayne withdrew, sat back in his chair. Zoe handed him his drink and sat on his other side and Mal, sitting between them, could have almost called the feeling happy. He couldn’t remember happy too well. But wasn’t it something like this? Something shiny, yeah, but an ache, too, like it was too shiny to last. They could see Kaylee, Simon, and River in the distance, slowly returning home. River had some contraption on her head, little tiny flashing lights like a jing cai fairy crown. She was dancing, and Kaylee and Simon followed behind, smiling, holding hands.

 

They was planetside. Room wann’t much, but it had a private bathroom adjoining, and that was something, tub filled with hot water, could soak as long as he wanted, no one waiting for him, no worries about the water getting cold, just touch one of those enamel taps and the faucet poured out more warmth. He didn’t think nothin as he sat there, he didn’t think nothin, he just closed his eyes. Not sleep, not a nap, no, just some kind of rest, real rest, like a taste of the peace and silence of the grave. Course wasn’t nothin like death, not really. He knew Jayne was in the other room, though he couldn’t see him or hear him. He was and wasn’t alone. And that was always a good feelin, to be by yourself but not alone. He was so deep in the water that every time he breathed, he felt it ripple across his chest, rise and fall of his body, rise and fall of the waves, and when the heat seemed too much, he rested his cheek against the cool marble lip of the tub, let that chill travel all through him. Sun came in strong through the window, then, out from hiding in the clouds, shined full on his face. Even warmer, and he broke out in sweat. Slow, reluctant, he pulled the metal chain up, let the water begin to drain. Stood and leaned against the wall, turned the shower on, soaped up and rinsed himself off one last time, and then turned the water off again. He stood there, naked, his wet hair dripping tears down his cheeks, both his hands against the brown tile to hold him up, support him. He felt good. Didn’t seem just that he could feel so good. What’d he ever done for it? The towel was on the window sill and he grabbed at it, was thick and soft and he rubbed himself down with it, across his scalp, under his arms, around his crotch, soaking up all the excess damp. Threw the towel down on the floor and stepped out on it, shuffled his feet across it to dry them off. His under-shorts were on the floor and he slipped them on, didn’t bother with anything else. He didn’t need anything rough touching his skin, not yet. The water finished draining with one last gurgle and then he could hear one note, two, a chord, and Jayne humming to himself. The door was already cracked open, and he nudged it further with his toe. It swung forward on its squeaking hinges, revealing Jayne sitting up against the head board, strumming his guitar, forehead furrowed in concentration. Mal stood in the doorway, just listened to the song. After it came to a close, he crossed the room to the window. It was covered with a thin curtain. He couldn’t really see out, but he could feel the sun shine through it, could see that yellow light. It was colder in here than it’d been in the bath. He gave a little shiver, was grateful for the sun. He went back to the bed and sat down at the edge, his back to Jayne. Jayne was singing softly, under his breath, Chinese lyrics that Mal didn’t recognize. Mal reached his hand back and rested it on Jayne’s ankle, curved his hand around the mounds of bone, brushed one with his thumb. Thought for a moment he might bend down and kiss the joint, though he didn’t. It was a strange thought, a frightening thought, though he didn’t know why. Jayne stopped singing, then. His finger-picking became more intricate as he focused solely on the instrument. It was a pretty song, a sad song. Seemed like all pretty things were sad underneath. Mal kept his hand on Jayne and kept his eyes on the curtains, the proof of sunlight slipping through where the fabric was most worn, the way they swayed in the breeze. With a final flourish, Jayne’s song came to a close, and Mal knew it was time to go. He remembered Simon’s warning. _Jayne’s ankle will never be as strong as it was. He’s going to have to be cautious._ Torn clothes, broken bones sticking up through flesh, pools of blood draining into the earth, dying bodies lying so still in the dirt, until the final horrible convulsion. Why was it everyone he’d seen dead always died with their eyes open? No, he was just lying to himself, if he said that wanting to kiss Jayne’s ankle was the most frightening image in his brain. Wasn’t frightening at all, wanting to kiss. What was scary was the threat in caring, when he knew it would all end up ground beneath the boot of the verse. He dropped his head and pressed his lips against the calloused heel of Jayne’s foot. The music stopped, and when Mal lifted his head, Jayne gave him a knock on the jaw with his fist, like they was boys playing, pretending to fight, pretending to be at war. They wrestled, and Mal let Jayne win, let himself be pinned. “You gonna be careful with that ankle?”

“Don’t you start worrying about me now. I can take care of myself just fine.”

“You always been such a gorram liar?”

“I ain’t lyin!”

“You ain’t never careful, neither.”

“Now, that ain’t true, Mal. I’m plenty careful. At least, I mean to be careful, honest. It just don’t always go as planned.”

No, Mal thought. Nothing ever went as planned. He strained against Jayne’s grip until Jayne released him. “We should be gettin back to the boat.”

“Yeah,” Jayne said, shifting on the bed. “Reckon it’s time.” But he put the guitar carefully on the floor at the side of the bed, pulled at Mal’s shoulders until Mal lay back down beside him. “You still look tired.”

Mal only shrugged, but when he allowed his eyes to close, he drifted back into sleep. When he woke again, Jayne was dressed. It was later in the day and the sun was fading. The room had become gray. “We stayed too long.”

Jayne waited for Mal as he dressed and gathered the few things he’d brought with him, strapped his guns back on.

Jayne went first out the door and, because their room was down at the end of the hall, as Jayne walked to the stairs Mal stood in the doorway and took the moment to watch him, to really watch, like he didn’t allow himself at any other time. What Simon said had him worried. Jayne looked the same, didn’t hesitate, didn’t slow or limp, but the doc was right. They were all getting older and they played a youngn’s game. When he reached the stairs, Jayne turned back and smiled, and Mal let himself smile in return, because he was still in the rented room, and it was allowed. When Jayne disappeared down the steps, Mal stepped over the threshold and the siesta was ended.

 

Mal couldn’t sleep. He saw Jayne’s face over and over in his mind, the horrified expression he quickly hid behind trembling hands. He left his bunk, stalked through the ship, wasn’t surprised to find him at the stove, waiting for water to boil for tea. “You’re awake.”

“I’m so gorram tired, but I can’t seem to stay still. I don’t know. Still got the adrenaline, maybe.”

Mal took the mug from Jayne’s hands. “Go sit down. I’ll fix it.” Jayne went to the table, and when Mal had placed the steaming drink in front of him, he stood right beside him, let his hand drop down to his shoulder.

Jayne looked at the tea, bent his head down to smell it, to feel the wet heat on his skin, but he didn’t take it in his hands and drink. “I been here for an hour already. I ain’t thirsty no more.”

“What, you just been sittin here drinking tea?”

“Been thinkin.”

“Do tell.”

“You just saying that.”

“No, I ain’t. Tell me.”

“Lookin in his eyes, Mal, I just, I seen somethin that’s worse than death, somethin a man just ain’t built to stand. It’s like that poor bastard we rescued long ago.”

“It’s alright. You’re safe now.”

“Gorramit, Mal, don’t talk to me like I was some dumb kid! Hell, you can’t understand this none. You don’t believe in hell or god or any of that gou shi. You best leave.”

Mal bent down to kiss him. Jayne tried to push him away, but he didn’t mean it, didn’t put any strength behind his hands. He kept turning his face and Mal’s lips fell any place they could: his brow, his chin, the corner of his eye, the crown of his head. When Jayne finally stopped squirming, Mal took advantage and pressed their lips together. It was a kind of kiss he’d shared with Zoe before, when they’d been separated during a battle, and when they’d see each other again, both breathing, four legs and four arms and four eyes between them, he would just press his mouth hard against hers, lips shut, pressing until he could feel their teeth against each other. It was like he had to do it to prove they were both still there, still whole. Jayne’s kiss back was a softer one, the tip of his tongue pressing against the dip of Mal’s lower lip until Mal’s mouth parted and they could taste each other. This was more proof, the proof of all five senses. They saw each other, heard each other, touched and smelled each other, and here was the final proof, the salt of the sweat above Jayne’s upper lip and the contrast inside his mouth, like the honey he used in his tea still lingered there. When they pulled apart, Jayne accused him. “You said never on the boat.”

“Yeah, I say a lot of things.”

“You telling me you don’t mean em?”

“I do at the time. I reckon when the situation alters, I can go along.” He stood behind Jayne, bent over him, a reversal. How rarely did Jayne need to be covered, sheltered from the world he usually confronted without fear?

“You ever believe, Mal? I mean when you was a boy?” Jayne sounded like a boy himself, like he believed Mal was grown, and being grown, held answers.

With his mouth so close to Jayne’s ear, he had to whisper. It suited him. Some things were easier said like that. “Believed a lot longer than that.”

“Was it the war?”

“Wasn’t the war, exactly. You ever had someone trust you, Jayne? Ever had someone believe you when you tell em it’s gonna be alright?”

“When I left my kin, I told em I’d always send back enough for em to get by. I made a promise.”

“You know what it means, then. I ain’t a coward, Jayne. I ain’t stupid, I ain’t a fool.”

Jayne snickered and Mal wondered if he were gonna refute it, be contrary just to piss Mal off. “No, you ain’t none of that,” he said, like it was hard to admit it.

“But it don’t matter in the end, because I failed.”

“It ain’t your fault the Alliance won.”

“I know. Don’t make it any easier.”

“I ain’t afraid to die, Mal.”

“No?” That surprised him. He’d always thought Jayne was a man who needed to grab everything by the throat, throttle and subdue or get beat down trying. He’d always thought Jayne lived for the fight, and once a man was dead, there was no fight left.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want it. But I seen there’s something worse. I thought we was both gonna meet the maker this afternoon. Why the hell did you come back, Mal? It’s not bad enough for one of us to end up in the bone orchard, but you got to get us both killed?”

“Does everyone on this boat think I’m a gorram liar? Nobody gets left. How many times I got to tell you?”

“You shouldn’ta come back.”

“Jayne, you woulda died.”

“You coulda died, too. I thought we both was gonna.”

“Jayne, I’m startin to think you ain’t grateful. Tell me now if you wanna get left next time, and I can save myself the bother of lookin after your fool ass.”

Jayne’s fingers unbuttoned Mal’s sleeve. He brought the inside of Mal’s wrist to his mouth, pressed a kiss to each side of it, right below the heel of the palm. Held Mal’s hand in one of his own and traced the branching blue of his veins with the fingertips of his other hand. “I didn’t want you to come back, not if it meant you was gonna die.”

And now Mal understood. This was the meaning underneath Jayne’s reaction, terror that he would be the reason for Mal’s death. That was, that was something. Mal recognized the trail left behind. If Jayne died, it meant the people who depended on him suffered. Yet he still wouldn’t be the reason for Mal’s end. What was the thing worse than death? It was knowing someone else died for you, when it wasn’t worth nothing. Gou shi, but his thoughts had led him in a circle. Only thing worse than dying was dying in vain, like all them soldiers he’d commanded. “Nobody died.”

“That reaver.”

“Right. But that don’t matter.”

“No. Still, though, it’s eerie knowing it used to be a man, no different n’ you and me. I ain’t saying I’m sorry, but there’s something sorry there, dong ma?”

“I know.” Mal wrapped his free arm tighter around Jayne’s chest. He just held on for long moments, smelling Jayne, feeling the heat of his body and breathing in time with him. Jayne’s eyes were shut, his head beginning to pitch forward. “Think you can sleep now?”

“Think I already was. Shiny dreams are waitin for me.”

“Come on.” Jayne didn’t argue as Mal helped him up, led him to his bunk.

“You coming in?” Jayne asked, as he swung open the hatch.

“If you’re inviting me.”

“I am.”

Mal followed Jayne down the ladder.

 

Jayne was curved around him, not so close as to be stifling, but just there, a few inches or so away from Mal, whose skin prickled in a nice way. One of Jayne’s hands rested on Mal’s hip, and Mal brushed the back of his fingers over Jayne’s.

“You know what Shepherd Book used to tell me?”

Mal hated the trappings of religion, but the respect which Jayne carried for Book’s memory was an exception. Jayne kept Book alive for all of them, the way he mentioned him so casual, and made them feel it so deep, like the man was still alive. Maybe he liked to think that someone, Zoe, probably, would keep his memory alive when he was naught but bones. Maybe he liked to think Jayne would remember him, too, Kaylee, hell, the whole crew. He knew, course he knew, no guarantees that he would die before any of them. But it was easier to imagine that than to bear thinking of the other. “What?”

“Used to say there was much good in the verse, if a man looked for it, knew how to recognize it.”

“You believe that?”

“Hell no.” Mal turned round so he could see Jayne, but his eyes were looking down, where his thumb stroked the jut of Mal’s hip bone. “Ain’t impossible, though,” he finally said, “find good in this verse.”

Mal couldn’t deny he agreed.


End file.
